chamomile tea
by RebelzHeart
Summary: Spider-man goes to Matt in a time of grief. (Homecoming-verse) First in a cup of tea series.


Matt stumbles into his apartment a little past two in the morning to find the strong smell of tea and the sound of breathing much too deep to belong to anyone awake.

The light flutter of a heartbeat a bit too quick to be human greets him as Spider-man sighs, "That's a _lot_ of blood."

"Spider-man." Matt greets him genially, trying not to show how badly he's hurt now that he knows the kid's there.

There's a very definitive frown in Spider-man's voice as he demands, "Are you seriously trying to play off your injuries right now?" He doesn't even allow Matt any moment of protest, just continues plowing forth like a bulldozer as he throws his hands into the air and snaps, "Couch, _now_. Even the Devil needs help sometimes."

Matt considers arguing, he really does, but he smells fear amidst the irritation and way that Spider-man sounds so absolutely _done_ , so he makes his way over to the couch and raises an eyebrow. "Chamomile tea." He notes as the smell grows stronger and Spider-man moves over to shut his window. "I don't have any tea."

"Of course you don't." Spider-man snorts, though there's an undercurrent of nervousness and panic beneath his words. "You're barbaric."

Matt laughs at that as Spider-man opens his first aid kit. "And so you decided to come and culture me?"

The query is hidden underneath his words.

 _Why are you here?_

Spider-man stills ever so slightly, and then he murmurs quietly, "I just need somewhere to stay for a while. Lay low."

Panic seizes Matt and he demands, "Why, what happened?"

"It's not important, okay?" There's something sharp and cross in Spider-man's voice, something that's undeniably like a child trying to pretend nothing's wrong because they're afraid of what will happen if they admit the truth.

" _Spider-man_." Matt frowns even as Spider-man begins to gently clean over his wounds, washing away the blood and applying disinfectant.

"Tea?" Spider-man asks quietly, not even waiting for an answer as he puts down the cloth and putters around Matt's kitchen to look for a spare cup. "It's quite good. I know that you're a coffee fan... also, jumbo-sized, _really_? We're talking about why you have so many empty cans when I _know_ that you have someone collect your trash every week... but tea will do you a lot of good."

Matt sits quietly, thoughtfully, as Spider-man pours out a bit of the tea and the sound clinks and swells comfortingly as it slides into the glass.

"Did someone die?" He asks and Spider-man nearly drops the teapot, which Matt takes as a _yes_. "Who?"

"Nobody."

But Spider-man's voice is rough and calloused, broken up and even higher pitched than usual, like someone who's spent hours crying and can't do it anymore.

"Spider-man." Matt says again, more gently this time even as Spider-man hands the cup over to him and he takes a tentative sip. It's so strong that it could probably beat the Hulk in a arm wrestling match, but there's a subtle taste of sweetness that reminds Matt of strawberries. "I understand if you don't want to compromise your identity, but if you came over here, this means that you don't want to be alone, right?"

Spider-man shifts uncomfortably, his hands starting to shake as he brushes the disinfectant over Matt's wounds and Matt's reminded once again of how young he must be, even though Matt doesn't know the exact age.

"Mr. Stark... Tony... he'll probably hear about it in the morning." Spiderman says quietly, and then pulls out some bandages. "Could you take off your shirt? Whoa, _dude_ , you're ripped... what is with that _giant_ scar... okay, yeah, bandaging... Anyways, I think he'll try to do that weird thing where he tries to comfort me but ignores his own problems and where he tries to fix things but is scared of messing up because it means a lot to him and I dunno, I just..." He takes a deep breath. "I guess I'm just not ready to be comforted yet."

"You just want to mourn." Matt says, understanding.

Spider-man shrugs.

"I know that you won't say something to try to make me feel better. I've been through this before, so I get it. I'll grieve for a while, and then I'll be good."

"Then you'll be good." Matt echoes doubtfully.

Spider-man must hear the doubt because he makes a small laughing sound. "Well, not good. But. You know. It's a death. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

"Right."

Matt has been so distracted by the conversation that he hasn't really noticed that Spider-man's finished bandaging.

"So you came to me?" He puzzles it over.

Spider-man shrugs. "I trust you." He answers quietly in explanation and _wow_ if that doesn't just...

"Why?" Matt doesn't understand.

Spider-man hums distractedly. "Who knows?" He asks quietly, and perches on the edge of Matt's coffee table, one leg crossed over another as he blows lightly on the surface of his tea and takes a sip. "I guess... I guess I don't really need to keep a secret identity anymore, now that she's dead."

He stares at his tea, sounding puzzled, as though he can't quite wrap his mind around the idea.

"You could become an Avenger now." Matt agrees, taking a sip of his own tea as he recalls Spider-man telling him about declining the offer.

Spider-man shakes his head. "I'm not ready to be an Avenger." He responds seriously, the words containing the weight of the world in them. "I don't want any publicity."

"Then what will you do?" Matt asks, tilting his head to the side.

Spider-man makes a frustrated noise, exhaling as he sighs, "I don't know."

Matt frowns at his tea, then raises his head to give the illusion of looking at Spider-man. "Will you stay the night?"

"Can I?" Spider-man asks hopefully.

"Yeah." Matt nods. "You can take the..."

"...Couch." Spider-man cuts him off, a pale smile in his voice. "I'll take the couch."

Matt frowns and tries to argue, but Spider-man won't hear of it and so Matt let's him take the couch.

(As he drifts to sleep, he pretends not to notice that Spider-man is still sitting there, cup of tea in hand as he curls up and cries.)

By morning, Spider-man is gone, nothing left but a small note that Foggy reads saying _thank you_ and the smell of chamomile tea hanging in the air.


End file.
